Living, Dying, Dead
by Nataku4
Summary: Arg. Just my pathectic attempt at being 'deep' and using 'symbolism' Lol, in other words, it sucks.


Author's Note: Wow. This is really random and stupid. It started out as a spiffy little slash-fic for redrose2310, but alas. The damn thing mutated. Curses.

Anyway, it's basically just a conversation between Royce & Dennis a little after the movie…nothing special.

But! It does prove two thing: 1) I am a one-trick pony. 2) I am the Queen of Inplausibility.

So! Bearing that in mind, I bade you farewell until the end…lol, well, since it doesn't really have a beginning, does it even have an end?

__

[Living, Dying, Dead.]

*~*

"Forty-five years, Dennis. For forty-five fucking years I've done nothing but ask myself that question. Why me? Why any of us? What the hell did we do to deserve this?! Huh? Answer me that, _Dennis_," Royce stared at him hard, almost as if he were _wanting _Dennis to know the answer _so_ much, that he was _forcing_ himself to _believe_ that maybe, the terrible mystery would be solved once and for all.

[_Wanting. Believing. Wanting. Believing. wanting, wanting, wanting…]_

And then Dennis could almost imagine Royce's chest heaving with pent-up emotion, as though he were still _living_ and _breathing_ instead of _dead_. 

But then again, he wasn't really _dead._

Not yet.

He hadn't finished _dying_ yet, and still had a way to go before his thoughts and feelings went into the same dark hole that had taken his breath and pulse, until he really was _dead._

But he wasn't yet. He was _dying_ inside, but he wasn't _dead._

But if _dying_ wasn't _dead_, did that make it _living?_

[Living. Dying. Living. Dying. Dying, Dying, Dying. Dead.]

"Well? Aren't you supposed to be a Psychic?"

And _there_ were those emotions that Dennis could almost imagine. The ones that made it seem as though Royce was _crying_, and trying not to so much that he was almost _laughing_ with the sheer agony that that one simple force of will put him through.

And he was _crying _so hard that he was _laughing._

But_ laughing_ so hard that he was _crying._

And the two merged into a grotesque parody of a hybrid-emotion; that Dennis almost could imagine was really there.

__

[Laughing. Crying. Laughing. Crying, Crying, Crying, Dying, Dying, Dying. Dead.]

"Tell me…" And this time it was whispered, but it conveyed so much more of the almost-really-there _laughing crying_ emotion.

And, Dennis wanted to tell him. Oh _god_ he wanted to tell him. He _wanted_ so much, he almost _believed_ that he really knew what he _needed_ to tell.

But he didn't really _know_.

And he could almost _imagine_ that he was _feeling _the _laughing crying_ emotion.

So then instead of _wanting_ to _believe_ he _knew_; Dennis was _wishing_ that he _knew_ all the answers to everything; just because he _needed_ to tell Royce.

So that he wouldn't have to almost _imagine_ the _laughing crying_ emotion anymore.

So that he wouldn't have to almost _feel_ it either.

__

[Wishing. Knowing. Wishing. Knowing. Wishing, Wishing, Wishing. Knowing.]

And suddenly, he wasn't _imagining_ them anymore, because they were suddenly bursting through in waves of heart-wrenching sobs onto a jagged coast made of loneliness and confusion.

So Royce just stood there. _Shaking_ with sobs that had existed for forty-five years but had just managed to find they're way to light.

And Dennis stood in front of him, suddenly _wishing_ that he was still almost _imagining_ them, only because actually _seeing_ them was so much worse then _imagining_ them and trying to _wish_ you _knew_ in order to make them go away. 

And then Royce was _laughing_. _Laughing_ and _sobbing_ and _shaking_ all at the same time.

But his _dying _not _dead_ body couldn't stand up to the _laughing crying_ emotion.

So he was _sobbing shaking laughing_ and _falling._

And Dennis found himself there to catch him before he finished _falling._

And then he was _holding_ Royce, so that he couldn't keep _falling._

[Holding. Falling. Holding. Falling. Holding, Holding, Holding.]

So Royce was releasing the _laughing crying_ emotion into Dennis' chest, and Dennis had his arms wrapped around Royce.

And he was _imagining_ that he was _seeing_ some of the darkness lift away from Royce's _sobbing laughing_ _shaking_ but not _falling_ form.

__

[Seeing. Wanting. Seeing. Wanting. Seeing. Wanting. Believing, Believing, Believing.]

And Dennis _believed._

*~*

And so goes my first venture into non-humor. 

…

Okay, I'll stick to humor.

Lol, I'm sorry you all had to be subjected to that; you didn't deserve it.

And so I leave you, with one thing to bear in mind:

Torn Prince All


End file.
